Somewhere in Neverland
by cheeseandoreosHP
Summary: When will Fred and George grow up? Never, if they have their way. Set in the Christmas during the war, let the twelve days of pranking begin... With laughter, tears, loss, and some very, very angry girlfriends. A gift for Isabell-TheGiantPeanut.
1. The First Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: This story is a Christmas gift for an amazing reader and reviewer, Isabell-TheGiantPeanut. It occurred to me today that there are twelve days until Christmas, and since Isabel loves the Weasley twins, and a friend and I were talking about Peter Pan... Yeah, I kind of knitted them all together. I'll do a chapter a day, except I might not do one on Christmas day, because that would weird me out, and I'll be a bit preoccupied eating and opening presents and wearing pyjamas and listening to the Queen blather on about what a great year she's had, that sort of thing... The OC is Adeline Lestrange, from my fanfiction 'The Weasley Twins and Me', but I don't think there's anything that would confuse you if you haven't read it! **

**So I hope you're all having a wonderful first day of Christmas! This is just an experiment piece, so be sure to tell me what you think. And to Isabel, thank you so much for all the support you've given me over the past couple of months. You've helped me so much with the wonderful advice and encouragement you've given me, and your reviews never fail to make me smile. I feel as if I've come on leaps and bounds with your reviews, and so I just thought someone should say: you're amazing ;) **

_On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: a partridge in a pear tree. _

"You know something, Fred?" George asked suddenly, looking around the little store in disdain. "This is miserable, but I don't even want to go home."

"War takes the fun even out of fun." Fred agreed dismally, rubbing his eyes as he looked up from his list of figures. "People aren't even interested in the shop anymore."

This wasn't entirely true; the twins still got a steady flow of customers, people looking for cheap jokes to distract them from the dire, charged energy that war with Voldemort had brought them... But Fred and George had been noticing that sales had gone down significantly... And even the bright atmosphere of their shop, the laughter and jokes of the twins, didn't seem to be able to keep the bleak atmosphere of the outside world from leaching in.

"Come on. Let's call it a night." Fred sighed tiredly. "We need to meet Adele and Angelina for dinner at mums before they send out a search party."

George hesitated, then sighed. Even he couldn't make light of their girlfriends frantic worry. Not when it was so completely and utterly well founded.

"You know something, Fred?" George asked, as the door closed with a little ringing sound and Fred turned the key slowly in the lock, wondering, as he couldn't help from doing, whether this was to be the last time he saw the shop.

"What?" Asked Fred.

"It's the first day of Christmas."

"Whoopee! Let's get a countdown clock!" Fred replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. George rolled his eyes.

"Come on. Don't you remember how we used to give people Chirstmas cheer?"

"By pranking them senseless?" Fred asked as they set out across the street, wrapping their cloaks tighter about themselves and keeping a firm hand on their wands.

"By pranking them senseless." George agreed, a grin unfurling on his face. Fred's eyes widened as an incredulous smile spread across his face.

"George." He said, his voice shaking with poorly supressed excitement. "I think we have time for a quick stop at the owlery, don't you?"

"Yes, Freddie dear, I think we do."

* * *

"Do reckon it'll work?" George asked. He was trembling almost as badly as he had been when they had played their first prank at Hogwarts... Then, it had been to set off ten dungbombs in the transfiguration corridor after McGonagall had given them their first detention...

"If it doesn't, I have no idea what will!" Fred grinned.

"Sod it all-"

"Let's do it!"

They pushed open the door, stamping their boots on the doormat, and yelling as they went.

"Alright!"

"Hold off the papparazzi!"

"No need to take _that _many pictures!"

"We're home!"

"Wait for it." Fred whispered, his eyes on the stairs.

"Wait for it." George whispered back.

"Aannnnnnddddddddddddd-"

"Fred!"

Adele whipped around the corner. All Fred took in was a blur of dark hair and a Weasley jumper before Adele crashed into him with the force of a boulder, hugging him so tightly all the air was squeezed out of his lungs.

"Can't- breathe-" He stammered.

"Where have you been? We've been worried out of our minds waiting, the clock said you left twenty minutes ago, and-"

"George Weasley!"

"Err- hey, Ange."

Angelina stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she took in the sight of the three of them...

"Err- Do I not get a hug?" George asked. "Or is this not the time-?"

"No it's not the time! For heavens sake, George, I need to be at my parents ten minutes ago!"

"I thought we were staying for tea?"

Angelina's lip trembled slightly as tears pooled in her eyes. "Mum's a bit- well, we've had a bit of a shock."

"Who-?" George asked, as Fred's mouth fell open.

"Mum's neighbour." Angelina whispered in a small voice. "Right next door, the dark mark and everything, and mum- doesn't want to sleep alone tonight, so I said we'd come and sit with her for a bit. Dad's just flooed me, he's not going to be home from the ministry until midnight, and Molly said it'd be alright if we-"

George cut her off by wrapping his arms around her waist. "It's fine, Ange. Course it's fine."

"So close to Christmas-" her words were muffled by sobs and the mouthful of George's t-shirt she'd just taken as she buried her head in his chest.

"Did you- did you know them well, Ange?" Adele asked, placing a hand on her friend's arm. Angelina looked up and shook her head.

"They just moved in a month ago, I'd never met them. But that's precisely what's upset me." She whispered miserably. "Is it bad that I- that I'm relieved? That, as much as it upsets me that they're gone, I can't bring myself to really grieve, when all I can think is that it's not anyone I know? That I'd rather a thousand nameless, faceless people died than risk anyone I loved?"

"Of course it's not. It's natural." Adele soothed her gently, biting her bottom lip as she looked at Fred. "I feel exactly the same, and- Fred, what in Merlin's name do you have behind your back?"

Fred froze in the act of moving his hand from his pocket to his back.

"Would you believe me if I said it was just a pear?"

"Of course I wouldn't, you idiot, hand over- whatever it is. And Merlin help you if it punches me in the face!"

Angelina gave a reluctant smile as she watched Fred hand over two perfectly shaped, beautifully green pears, each with a silver bow attached to the top. Adele examined them between her thumb and forefinger, holding them gingerly away from her as if she feared they might explode.

Molly had come into the living room, drawn out, no doubt, by the noise. Her face was drawn and pale, but at the sight of Fred and George, she gave a weary sort of smile.

"And what do they-?"

"Think fast!" George yelled as he jumped away from Angelina, the pear flying from Adele's hand to Angelina's. In a puff of brightest green smoke, both girls vanished.

When the smoke cleared, Molly's eyes widened. She turned to the boys, as if unsure whether to laugh or begin to shout.

"What in Merlin's name have you-?" she began...

"On the first day of Christmas-" Fred sang.

"My true sent to me-" George joined in.

"A partridge in a pear tree!" They finished off.

For there, on Molly's carpet, sat two pear trees, so tall and perfectly formed, with such ripe, juicy looking fruit dangling from their branches that they might have sat there for years. And in the middle of the branches, the partridges Fred and George had bought from the owlery hooted with a kind of vacant, annoying sweetness.

In another poof of smoke, two girls sat on the carpet once more, beside two partridges which scampered off into Molly's kitchen.

"You know." Said Angelina, as Adele coughed up a pear into her palm. "I think you might have misinterpreted that line a little. When they say sent, they mean like appeared on the office desk, as a sweet, romantic present from caring boyfriends."

"Not turn into using magic, exploding pears, so that said boyfriends can sit and laugh whilst the unfortunate girlfriend sits there coughing up pears." Adele finished off.

Still hysterical with laughter, George offered Angelina a hand up. "Welcome to the twelve days of pranking, courtesy of the fore mentioned boyfriends, which involves lots of laughing at unfortunate girlfriends. Woah, tone down the glare! Did I ever mention that you're beautiful, and that I love you? Because I do. Very, very much! You made the most astonishingly, breathtakingly beautiful pear tree I have ever seen!" George's eyes were wide and earnest. Fred's shoulders shook as he fought not to laugh...

"I'm going to kill you, George Weasley. Slowly and painfully, right after we've finished visiting my mother."

Molly shook her head, though she too was shaking with irrepressible laughter...

"Will you two ever grow up?" She asked.

"Somewhere in Neverland." George called back over his shoulder as Angelina dragged him away. Fred's laugh was cut off by Adele, who hit him with a pear.


	2. The Second Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: I went out with my aunt and uncle today. When I came back, it seemed that Fred and George had been rather busy, too. Hope you enjoy ;) **

**bubblecloudz: Thank you so much ;)**

**Isabel: I'm really, really glad you like it! I don't know how I did it either, but seriously, I am so glad you're pleased! I agree about the title... Anyone got any ideas? Pranking Around the Christmas Tree sounds really cool, but I was thinking, it'd be cool to have something to do with the twelve days of Christmas? I'll think about it. Anyone with any ideas, feel free to post them! I like the nickname too. She's called Ada in this chapter! ;) And the song thing sound cool. I've used Les Miserables, Empty chairs and Empty Tables, for this chapter... It always, always, always makes me cry. The chapters are going to get more light hearted as we go on, though :P (I hope...!) I like the line of a song idea, it sounds like a fun game. To be quite honest, if we do it across two stories, I'll run out of 'something about me' to tell you... Or I won't, but they'll get longer, and they're long enough as it is. So, song that's playing right now: _Fire, burning me up, desire, taking me so much higher, and leaving me whole. _Good luck with that one! :)**

**I don't own Harry Potter. (Forgot to put a disclaimer on the last chapter, so that goes for the first one too. I'm not J.K. Rowling, much as I might wish I was!) **

On_ the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. _

Ada was meeting Fred in her lunch break.

But after yesterday, she worried that she would be better off going and poking a hippogriff in the behind.

She wasn't feeling at all Christmas-ish, either. Despite having helped Molly to knit copious Weasley jumpers, decorating the Christmas tree (which had always cheered her up in the past), filled out so many Christmas cards she had crampt right down her hand, had a snowball fight in the back garden and baking a Christmas cake, it seemed to feel less and less like Christmas and more like an endless funeral everyday.

"Don't look at me like that." She told the partridge, sat on the bedside. Fred's side of the bed was still somewhat rumpled. Rolling her eyes, she went over to straighten it.

"God bless ye, Merry Hippogriffs." She muttered, staggering and grabbing the bedpost for support as tears filled her eyes. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she sighed and grabbed a silver backed hairbrush from the dresser.

"Merlin, what a mess." She muttered. And she wasn't talking about her hair.

There scarcely seemed to be any point in Christmas anymore... Why would life go on as normal, with such inconsequential things as holidays, when the entire wizarding world was falling apart? Why would Fred and George bother to continue playing their stupid pranks, when the ones who would have enjoyed them the most were missing in action, no longer around to listen?

Wandering into the kitchen, she straightened the empty chairs, before walking to the mantlepiece to look at the photographs. Perhaps it was dangerous to the point of foolishness to keep such open displays of affection for the chosen one on her mantlepiece, but she didn't see the point in hiding the photos away. Everyone knew that she considered Harry, Ron and Hermione as brothers and sister of her heart, and if there was one thing the death eaters couldn't take away, it was her family.

Slowly, she brushed her fingers across each laughing, sweetly young face... Then turned to the table with her heart heavy and her eyes stinging with tears.

"Phantom faces at the windows, phantom shadows on the floor." She whispered to herself, her gaze flicking across the room, towards the picture of Ron, Harry and Hermione, of MadEye and her Uncle Tonks... "Empty chairs. Empty tables. Where they won't be coming meet for Christmas day."

With that, she collapsed onto her wooden chair, wrapping her arms around herself as she cried.

"Ada! Ada, are you ready for-?" Fred stopped short at the view of her, sat in the chair as she sobbed. "What- are you-?"

"I'm being stupid. But if you set a flock of doves on me now, Fred Weasley, I swear to god-!"

"I won't. No doves, see. But what are you doing? And don't say it's stupid. Nothing ever is."

"I miss MadEye." Ada admitted finally, moping her eyes on her sleeve. "And Uncle Ted. And I feel- that I need to be forgiven."

"Because you live, and they're gone?" Fred asked gently, taking her hand. Eyes trained on her shoes, Ada nodded.

"There's this grief which words can't speak, and a pain which goes on and on. I can't- what if I'm not strong enough to do this, Fred?"

"You are!" Said Fred, and he spoke fiercely, as if preparing to take on anyone who dared say otherwise. "For heavens sake, Ada, you're the strongest person I know! Yes, there are empty chairs, and yes, there are empty tables, where people should be meeting as we speak. But don't you dare let that be in vain! Promise me!"

"I- I promise." She whispered.

"Good. Now, do you want to go out for lunch with me or not?"

"If this has anything to do with the twelve days of pranking, Fred, I think I may actually kill you." She said, but she allowed him to pull her to her feet and wrap her cloak around her shoulders anyway.

* * *

Angelina felt exhausted and defeated, and it wasn't because she'd spent the past hour making her mother cup after cup of tea...

How many places would the dark mark have to appear before this infernal war was over? When did the killing stop? Couldn't the Death Eaters just take a week off, maybe? Eat brandy snaps and celebrate Christmas with their psychotic families?

The idea of Bellatrix Lestrange pigging out on the Marks and Sparks Christmas biscuits and then getting told off by Narcissa Malfoy for not leaving any for Draco almost made Angelina laugh.

Almost.

"Sometimes, I think you're going to end this war all by yourself." George said conversationally, bringing yet another tea tray from the living room. "You get this look in your eyes, like you're going to go up to Voldy pants, punch him in the nose he doesn't have, then start screaming profanities at him. I reckon that's something the entire wizarding world would pay to see."

Angelina laughed. "You know what, much as I would love to do that, I tend to reserve the screamed profanities for boyfriends who try to prank me into cracking a smile when I don't want to. Let the world be miserable for a change, why don't you?"

George laughed. "Much as I would love to stand here discussing your eminent depression and boring-ness, I come bearing news. Your mother wants cake. Something sweet to calm her nerves. I told her she was getting on _my _nerves."

Angelina snorted, before wrapping her arms around George's waist. "Thank you."

"For what?" George asked, kissing her on the lips. Despite the cold draught from the window, Angelina felt suddenly warmth course through her veins... Hot, buttered toast and melted marshmallows and cinnamon hot chocolate... Maybe it really was coming up to Christmas.

"For trying to cheer me up, even if you went about it in the wrong way."

George raised his eyebrows. "Hold on a minute." He made a time out gesture. "Do you mean to tell me that I have lived to see the day that Angelina Johnson _thanks _me for playing a _prank_? Someone tell Voldy pants, quick. He doesn't need to destroy the world! The apocalypse is coming! The end is nigh! Save yourselves!" He made a dramatic gesture as if he was about to swoon. Angelina laughed, and pushed him in the chest with her palms, passing him a tray with a thick slab of cake and fresh cup of tea loaded onto it.

"You, George Weasley, are a complete idiot. Now go serve my mother cake, before she starts nagging dad for twelve sugars in her tea."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Oh, haha!"

"Ange?" George asked at the door.

"Yeah?"

"Just because it was here we sat around your kitchen table and talked about revolution, just because it was here we lit the flame, here we talked about tomorrow... Doesn't mean tomorrow will never come."

Angelina's shoulder's slumped forward, and she grabbed the chair for support. Overcome by tears and exhaustion, there seemed to be nothing more she could do. When she looked up, however, it was as if she had shed the weariness from about her shoulders like a cloak, and some of the old spark and fire looked out at George from behind her eyes.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think my mum would notice if we slipped out the back and went for lunch with Fred and Ada?"

George grinned, putting the tea tray down on the table and scribbling a quick note to her parents, before offering his arm with a grin.

"My dear, I thought you would never ask."

* * *

Angelina felt like a rebellious teenage girl as they ran to the stop of the hill at Ottery St Catchpole, giggling like children. Which, she reflected, they were... Only their childhood had been ripped from them so suddenly and with such brutality she felt much, much older than 19...

It was nice, running out of her parents backyard with George and apparating onto the hill where they always met Fred and Ada. A delicious sense of freedom, and a pang of loss, ripped through her like a knife.

"Hi." She laughed, grabbing Ada by the elbow. Like Angelina, Ada seemed to be shrouded in worry and anxiety, and her eyes were slightly puffy and red, as if she had been crying.

They had both agreed in the late hours of last night that, should Fred and George play one more prank on them, they would rip them limb from limb. This was one holiday were pranks were not needed, and the heavily charged air and seriousness in everyone's faces was not only warranted but needed, too.

Now, however, Angelina wondered... If everyday were to be your last, why _shouldn't _you enjoy it, and get in as many laughs as you could while you still had the ability?

Although Angelina's idea of a laugh did _not _involve being turned into a giant pear tree, and having a bloody great bird nest in her hair...

"So." Ada said. "What's for lunch?"

Fred exchanged a look with George, and they turned to the girls, pulling out a basket from behind their backs.

"Pie surprise."

"Uh-oh." Angelina muttered as Ada backed away so quickly she tripped over a tree root.

"Err- I'm going to regret this, but what's the surprise?" Ada asked. "Because if I get turned into a giant puff pastry pie, I promise you, I will not be-"

"No, no, no. I am not eating that." Angelina cut across her.

Fred and George rolled their eyes.

"Fine." Fred laughed. "We'll just eat it, won't we?"

"Steak and ale, Fred?" George asked, easily naming Angelina's favourite.

"Oh, no. Blueberry for me, please." Fred replied, winking at Ada.

"Ugh. I hate you." Ada muttered, trying to ignore the rumbling in her stomach. After an interval, Angelina said hopefully.

"Well, they don't seem to have turned into giant puff pastries. And I'm hungry."

"Knowing Fred and George, they've done some kind of charm to make themselves immune to it." Ada said cautiously, though her words were undermined somewhat as she accepted a large slice of pie from Fred.

By the time pudding was served, both girls had completely forgotten about their mistrust of any food provided by Fred and George, and accepted a chocolate bar each without another word.

A moment of silence. Before a sudden bang which echoed like a gunshot right across the hills... And Ada and Angelina emerged, coughing and spluttering, from what appeared to be a thick, white glue and...

"Bird feathers?"

"Dove feathers actually." Said George, clutching his side as he bent over, laughing so hard he could barely form words.

"Oh, sorry, did we forget to mention?" Fred's look of innocent, wide eyed wonderment was one that almost made Ada laugh, too. "The surprise was that the surprise wasn't in the pie at all-"

"It was in the chocolate!" George sobbed, still doubled over with laughter. And with a flourish, Fred opened the picnic basket, and two perfect, snow white doves flew out and soared, higher, higher, higher, into the hills...

And from the picnic basket, which Ada and Angelina would have thought could hold no more surprises, Fred pulled out another perfectly rounded pear with a silver bow attached to the stem.

"On the second day of Christmas-" George was still having significant trouble holding in his laughter.

"My true love gave to me-"

"Two turtle doves-"

"And a partridge in a pear tree!"

Angelina spat out a feather, and wiped her glue covered hands on George's t-shirt... Neither Ada nor Angelina seemed to see the funny side, somehow.

But neither Fred nor George Weasley stopped laughing all the way home.


	3. The Third Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Bit of a dramatic chapter coming up... Please don't hate me for this! It'll be less so next chapter. My internet keeps crashing, so I'm going to have to make this quick! The song in the first part of the chapter (I am rubbish at incorporating these songs, please don't judge me!) is Home by Gabrielle Alpin. See if you can spot it ;)**

**Love you all.**

**Isabel: That's absolutely fine... To be honest, I know the feeling. You'd have thought they'd know better than to put three controlled assessments in the last week of term, considering all the Christmas cheer being passed around like the flu, but apparently not. Good luck with it all, and thanks for taking the time to post reviews at all! I'm glad you enjoyed it. And yep, you got that completely right. I officially dub you genius ;) I'm going to hazard a guess here, which I hope is right: Adam Lambert, what do you want from me... I love that song if it is ;) **

**I don't own Harry Potter. **

On_ the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: 3 French hens, 2 turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree. _

Adele practically bounced with excitement as she pulled Fred out of bed that morning, tripping down the stairs singing Christmas carols and proceeding to make pancakes.

"You're in a good mood." Fred remarked casually, starting on his sixth pancake. Ada smiled at him, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

"She's coming home, Fred! Coming home for Christmas! Today!"

"I know, Ada."

"She'll be safe at the burrow, where we can all keep an eye on her and feed her back up again and know she's alright- well, as alright as any of the rest of us."

"Ada." Fred said, standing up and walking over to her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. "You're starting to sound like my mother. If you ask me, she's had it easier than most. She's able to raise a little hell, prank a few death eaters in training, without worrying about any serious redemption."

"Raise a little- prank a few- without _worrying_? Are you _insane_, Fred? She's been at _Hogwarts. _It's just about the least safe place you can be right now! And she's had to worry about the dark mark above her house, and her family, and if the cruciatus curse doesn't count as 'serious redemption' then I do not know what the hell does. Oh, and there's-"

"Alright, Ada. Okay." Fred winced, for, like all the Weasley brothers, he was rather protective of his little sister, much as he might pretend not to be. "The point is, she's coming home, Ada. But home doesn't necessarily mean the burrow."

"What?" Ada asked, her brow crumpling. "What are you talking about?"

"I just mean that home's not just where you make your bed, or where you lay your head. As long as we're together, it doesn't matter where we go."

Ada looked at him, her eyes wide. "I can't decide if your a poet, romantic or a philosopher."

Fred winked, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Don't tell George."

* * *

The train station was full, and subdued... Parents hugged themselves on the platform, trying not to give any thought as to what state the children coming off the train might be in...

The Weasley's stood apart from everyone else... Or, rather, everyone else stood apart from the Weasley's. No one wanted to be tainted by the bloodtraitor repute. Now, it was just as dangerous as being muggleborn.

The scarlet steam engine pulled in, as it inevitably did every year, and a sea of anxious parents held their breath.

Students came flooding off the train, and the entire Weasley family stood on tiptoes, searching with mounting anxiety for the long curtain of dark red hair and brown eyes... Yet there was no sign of her.

Molly gripped Arthur's hand, looking close to tears. The rest of the family shifted from foot to foot, hardly moving, scarcely daring to breathe... Waiting for a sign of their daughter.

Finally, Neville came. He was pale beneath multicoloured bruises and scars, and looked as if he was crying. His hands trembled as he held them by his sides.

Behind him, battered and bruised almost beyond recognition, came Ginny.

They both dropped onto the platform, their trunks falling with a bang... And just as Molly's face lit up with joy at seeing her daughter alive and relatively unharmed, Xenophilius Lovegood's smile dropped off his face as if he had been slapped. Or perhaps wacked over the head with a hammer.

For Ginny turned, as if in slow motion, and shut the door to the compartment. She did not turn around to face her family. Instead, she rested her forehead against the compartment door as her shoulder's shook with what were most probably sobs.

Luna Lovegood did not disembark from the train. The simple reason for this dawned on Ada the moment the door of the train shut; Luna would _not _be coming home for Christmas.

"Oh." Muttered Molly. Angelina turned to George, and the sudden reality of war seemed to land, quite suddenly, upon her shoulders.

What was to become of them all?

* * *

Ginny did not say a word for the rest of the day. She did not eat, merely sitting between Ada and Angelina on the sofa, tears glittering in the firelight.

"Molly, do you need anything doing?" Ada asked after an interval. Molly's own eyes were red rimmed and puffy... Perhaps she was thinking of poor Xenophilius, perhaps her own daughter whose silent vigil persisted well into the night, perhaps of the many others who would not be coming home this Christmas.

Whatever it was, looking at her, Angelina had never felt so helpless.

"If you and Angelina wouldn't mind feeding the hens, dear, I'd be ever so grateful. I'm in need of some eggs for dinner- I was going to make something special, but I guess scrambled eggs on toast will do, under the circumstances." She sighed. "And then perhaps you could make up Ginny's bed? I was going to leave it up to her, but I'm guessing you're not feeling up to it, Ginny dear?"

There was no reply from Ginny, who continued to stare into the depths of the fire, not even looking at Molly to show she'd heard. Ada broke the silence. "Of course, Molly. Come on, Ange, we'll go and feed the chickens."

"Is it just me, or are there more chickens than usual?" Angelina asked. Ada shivered, wrapping her coat more tightly about herself and gazing longingly at the bright lights from the house.

"Yeah, maybe." She muttered. "Poor Ginny."

Angelina sighed heavily, and leaned against the coop. "I know. And Luna-" Her eyes pooled with tears, and she looked away.

In the starlight, Ada gazed at her friend, and for once in her life had no idea what to say. Reaching out, she took her hand and attempted a small smile.

"We'll work through it, Ange. One day, we're going to look back on this and- and it'll be as if it never happened at all."

"I know that." Angelina muttered thickly. "It's just- I always thought of Luna as someone who was strong in her own special way, who the death eaters could never touch. And it's only now she's-"

"Don't say that." Ada gasped, feeling somewhat weak at the knees as she considered it. "She's not gone. She can't be. They _need _her, she's their weapon against Xenophilius. She's so vivacious and young, so strong, and she has so much to live for. I just can't bare it if-" Overcome by sobs, Ada looked up at her friend.

"Oh Ange." she whispered.

"She's going to make it through, Ada. We all are."

"I know."

And, tears flowing freely down their faces, the two friends grabbed each other... When they looked back, they would always wonder who was supporting whom that night. Or whether neither of them was able to hold on at all.

Taking the eggs back to Molly, Ada and Angelina went upstairs and made Ginny's bed, before going back downstairs and helping Molly with the dinner...

"This egg's funny." Angelina remarked, bashing it yet again on the side of the bowl. After a second, the egg cracked, spilling the yolk and the white into the bowl. The three of them continued to make dinner, although over half the eggs seemed to be much harder to break than usual.

"This looks really nice, girls, thank you." Arthur said, in a transparent attempt to break the silence that had fallen around the table. Ginny picked up her fork and began pushing a piece of egg around her face.

"After you." Said George with a grin, gesturing with a fork for Molly, Angelina and Ada to start. Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, Angelina took a large mouthful of egg and toast and shoved it into her mouth.

A moments silence as the three women chewed. Then, quite suddenly, Ada gasped, clutching her hand to her throat.

"Water!" She cried, snatching the jug straight out of an extremely surprised Fleur's hand. "Water!"

"Oh my goodness!" Cried Molly, her own hand flying straight to her throat in an action that mirrored Ada's. "Oh my! What in the world-"

"Molly!" Cried Arthur.

It took the rest of the family a moment to catch up. Then Fleur screamed, and Bill grabbed the jug back off Ada and threw the contents straight over Molly's head.

For her flame red hair was no longer just flame red... It was quite literally on fire.

Once Ada and Angelina had finished patting out the various fires which had errupted over themselves, a profound silence fell over the little table. No one dared speak or move, until...

"Behold, the providers of tonights dinner!" Fred cried, opening the door with a flourish. And three perfectly round, unfamiliar chickens waddled into the kitchen. In sync, the twins took a bow.

"On the third day of Christmas-" George began.

"My true love sent to me-"

"3 French-" SMACK.

Angelina, her face contorted in rage, dropped her hand back to the side. The smile fell from George's face as he clutched his now bright red cheek.

"What the hell-"

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" Angelina roared. "Are you just a complete and utter moron, or is it just at Christmastime you become completely blind to everyone around you? How could you be so bloody well selfish? There are people dying and going missing everyday! Friends, neighbours, family members. People we know, people we like, people we _love! _Just gone, like that! Dark marks appearing over family homes, muggles killed just for fun... Your own brother is missing, doing Merlin knows what, we don't even know if their alive! Your sister won't talk because her best friend has been captured, the news is getting darker everyday, and no one even sees fit to report it! But no, none of it matters. Because all you two can think about is your stupid pranks, and your bleeding shop, and your idiotic, insensitive jokes. Open your eyes, you prat! Nobody cares anymore! That's what happens when you turn your back, or are too busy blowing up toilets and pranking the giant squid! People grow up! They start taking stock of the people around them, start having actual cares and worries, rather than setting their mother and girlfriend on fire just because of the third bloody day of Christmas. We're at war, you moron! And all you care about is aggravating You-Know-Who and the death eaters with your pranks and jokes which no one even finds funny anymore. Wake up and grow a pair before you end up getting us all killed."

With that, she marched out, leaving a stunned silence in her wake. Ada stood up, her chair scraping across the floor. Locking eyes with Fred, she shook her head, her eyes filled with something he later identified as disappointment. It might not have been as dramatic as Angelina's anger filled speech, but it was just as effective...

Hurrying out, she raced after Angelina up the stairs.

Ginny scarcely even blinked.

And so ended the third day of Christmas.


	4. The Fourth Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Hello! **

**So, I said I was going to update everyday. That kind of went out of the window when I got a Geography, Physics, English and History test/assessment all on the same day. And then my internet died... I know, I know, I'm full of excuses. I feel bad that I haven't updated. But I've been working really hard all evening, and I've wrote three (quite short, since I have more revision, and I know other people do too!) chapters. I'm quite proud of myself to be honest. **

**Isabel: Glad you enjoyed it... Don't cry! I'll feel bad, unless they're the positive tears that I always seem to end up crying whenever I so much as open a book, in which case I'm so happy! Good luck with the exams, I really hope your exams go well! And don't feel compelled to read and review now. I really don't mind if it's not until the holidays or whatever! And over the rainbow, Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz/Judy Garland. Hmm... 'Only fools rush in, and I've been a fool before, but this time I'm going to slow it down, because I think this could be more.' Reasonably obvious one (I think?) But it's in my ear at the moment and I can't think of anything else. This song makes me happy... **

**Anyways, Merry Christmas all! I'm happy... Another two chapters coming your way in the next two minutes, and I will not know what to say ;)**

**I don't own Harry Potter. **

On_ the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear tree. _

It took George a while, once he had finally woken up, to work out why he was laid in a very uncomfortable position on the couch... And then to work out why exactly Fred's elbow was in his face.

Once he did, a thin layer of dread settled over him, heavy in the pit of his stomach.

Why did it have to be so bloody well difficult?

He'd tried to do something good for his girlfriend, and his family... In the end, all he and Fred had managed to do was to royally screw it all up. Not only was his family worried about the war against Voldemort, all the various order and family members who were missing and Percy-the-prat going over to the dark side, they were now apparently worried about him and Fred getting murdered in their sleep.

Oh, and getting their hair set fire to.

George figured that might upset him a little bit, too.

"Fred!" He yelled, throwing a pillow at his twin's face. "Oi! Shop opens in 5 minutes! Wake up you lazy git!"

"Grinch." Fred said, his tone still somewhat drowsy as he raised his head, revealing tousled red hair and slightly blood shot eyes. "Ada usually wakes me up-"

"Yeah, but last time I checked in the mirror, I wasn't Ada. If I were-" George across him. "I would be seriously worried."

"Why?"

"Err, she's a girl? And I don't walk around letting you snog me all the time, do I?"

"Oh. I thought you were a girl. And that's up for debate... Kiss me, Georgie?"

"Git." George muttered.

"But there's mistletoe?" Fred mock pleaded, puckering his lips in a way that made George want to rush to the nearest toilet and promptly empty his stomach into the basin...

"Yeah, well, Ada might not be kissing you at all after yesterday." George reminded him. That got Fred's attention.

"Yeah. We screwed up."

"You think? Come on. Shop's opening, and you should do something about your hair."

"You sound like mum." Fred sighed as he went into the next room.

And so the day passed, without a word from anyone, and half the amount of customers that would have otherwise come in. It was enough to dampen even Fred and George's good moods.

"Maybe we should send them a message?" George yawned at the end of the day, shoving the book of accounts away from himself and yawning widely, stifling it on the back of his hand.

"I've got a better idea." Fred grinned. "Time to put those calling birds to some use."

* * *

Ada and Angelina were sat together in the living room of the burrow, knitting Bill's jumper (Molly had retired to bed early, complaining of a head cold. The two girls suspected it had all gotten too much for her, and that she was up there on her own, grieving.)

Finally, Ada laid down her knitting.

"I feel awful." She whispered, though her eyes were trained on the opposite wall, so it was unclear whether she was addressing Angelina or the empty room.

"Why?" Angelina asked evenly, not taking her eyes from her knitting needles.

"For Merlin's sake, Ange, you know why!" Ada sighed. "They were just trying to help, you know."

"I know."

"Ginny might never be the same, after what she's been through this term. And Harry, Ron and Hermione, much as Mrs Weasley might pretend otherwise, are not going to drop out of the sky onto their seat at the table and start tucking into the mince pies."

"I know."

"Fred and George are missing them just as much as us. They _need _us."

"I know."

"We need _them, _Ange. Yeah, their prank was stupid, and their way of cheering us up was the worst idea I've ever heard, but at least they _tried. _I've missed them today. We overreacted."

The moment of truth... Angelina's temper was infamous, and in the moment of silence that followed, Ada honestly feared for her life. But her friend simply continued knitting, not lifting her eyes from the jumper sleeve. Finally, she said:

"Trust you to admit you're in the wrong, Adeline Lestrange. You are the worst person I have ever known at keeping grudges."

"But I'm right." Ada insisted. Angelina sighed and, finally, laid down her knitting.

"Yes." She sighed. "You were right."

At that moment, there was a small tapping noise at the window, and four calling birds flew in. The girls looked at each other a moment, then grinned...

"I'll get the cloaks, shall I?" Ada asked.

* * *

"Should have known you wouldn't stay away long." Angelina whispered, leaning against the door frame as she watched George, who was leaned over a word desk, scribbling furiously on a diagram for some joke or other.

At the sound of her voice, he spun around like he'd been electrocuted. A moment of stunned silence, in which he blinked rapidly as if unable to comprehend that she really was there.

"Ange." He whispered, and she felt goosebumps erupt over her skin, her heart giving an almost painful pang. Twisting her hands in front of her, she looked him in the eye.

"I- um, owe you an apology."

George's mouth twisted like he wanted to smile.

"Angelina Johnson offering an apology? Everybody run! The apocalypse is coming."

She wacked him in the chest. "Shut up, you git, or I won't be apologising at all."

"So, you owe me an apology?"

"Yeah. I overreacted. And I'm sorry."

"That's it? No grovelling? No please-forgive-me, I'll do anything in the world you want? No-"

She laughed, punching him playfully. "Don't push it."

George grinned, then his face turned suddenly solemn. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have- you know, set your hair on fire."

Angelina shook her head, and suppressed a grin... "No, you shouldn't. But for the record, I think it was sweet of you to try and cheer us up. Ada's words, not mine. I am impressed you haven't rigged a giant prank booby trap to catch me here, though."

"Umm... Yeah, about that. Turn around."

Angelina Johnson was promptly bombarded by calling birds, all bewitched to acted as messengers and all intent on delivering their scrolls.

"George!" Angelina screamed, though the smile on her face told him he was safe (for now). "Oh, Merlin, what the hell is happening?"

"Read one." George smiled, leaning back against the counter top to watch on in amusement.

Angelina threw him one reproachful glance, before bending down to pick up a scroll. And there, in tiny writing, she saw something which, to the intense confusion of all, made her crack a smile.

_"On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens and a Partridge in a Pear tree." _Then, she did something which took even the birds by surprise, and threw her arms around George's neck, kissing him full on in the mouth.

And even when a pear, a chocolate bar and an egg hit her on the head, she didn't break away...


	5. The Fifth Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Hey there. Long time no see... Thanks for sticking with me. This chapter isn't really about Fred, George, Ada or Angelina... In fact, there isn't very much pranking in it at all... But I really wanted to write it. I love the character of Molly Weasley. I think she's constant proof that mothers will do amazing things for their children... But also that no matter how human you are, no matter what choices you make with regards to career and motherhood, you should never judge anyone by the persona they put out or the gentility they profess. And you definitely shouldn't underestimate yourself, because you are capable of a thousand things you never dreamed you'd be able to do. We all break down from time to time. That doesn't mean we can't be strong when we need to be. Yeah. Hope you enjoy... **

**I don't own Harry Potter. You can sue me if you like, but I just spent all my pocket money on friend's Christmas presents, because I'm nice like that... It takes a very special kind of talent to stick your lips to the wrapping paper, as I discovered yesterday evening. It was so much fun! **

_On__ the fifth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 5 golden rings, 4 calling birds, 3 French hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear tree. _

Molly Weasley was feeling a bit down that day. It had nothing to do with the dreadful cold she had, or the constant worry that occupied stomach, or the horrible thoughts which settled in the basin of her mind like diseased things.

No, it had a lot to do with the fact that it was Christmas. It was Christmas, and yet it wasn't Christmas... Yes, it was the 17th December. But Ron, along with Harry and Hermione, was missing, and Ginny might as well be, for she was about as distant as the moon.

Couple with that the disappearances and murders colouring the news that was brought home everyday, and it made for a very merry Christmas.

Tra la la la la, la la la la...

Sinking down onto the bed, Molly pulled out the box from underneath her bed. All the Christmas jumpers were now completed.

Shame most of them wouldn't reach their intended recipients.

Red for Charlie. Molly pulled the soft wool off the top of the pile, holding it a moment to her face and sighing.

Yellow for Bill... She wiped a small tear, arching it's way down her cheek, out of the way.

Cream for Fleur. Merlin, she had been wrong about her daughter in law. The wool was beautiful beneath Molly's fingers... The lump in her throat was becoming painful.

Gold and red for Gred and Forge, of course... They meant well by it all, of course, but sometimes Molly just needed to be alone. To have a moments silence to think, to breath a second and get to grips with all that she had lost and all that had been ripped so brutally from her grasp, and the great losses that, potentially, were yet to come.

Light green for Ada, purple for Angelina. How she could have coped without their support, Molly had no idea. She was glad Fred and George had them, in any case. Her eyes were now so blurred by tears she couldn't see.

Gold for Ginny... Merlin, what was she going to do? How could she reach out to her daughter, how could she convince her that it was going to be alright, when she couldn't even convince herself? What kind of mother was she?

And then came the jumpers that Molly treasured the most, had placed the most investment of time and energy into, shed the most tears over...

Red for Percy. Maroon for Ron. Green for Harry. Pink for Hermione.

The tears fell in earnest now, but Molly made no effort whatsoever to still them. Thick and hot, they made their way down her face and splashed into her lap, onto the jumpers which had been made with such love and such care... And yet, for what? For _love_? It seemed so... so pointless.

No matter how passionatly you loved, how well you lived your life, how pure you tried to be... Bad things would befall you. Loved ones would be ripped from you. People would die, and life would continue to go on.

"Why?" Molly sobbed, aloud. Her voice was so hoarse, so desperate, so utterly cracked and broken with grief and despair... It was a plea. But pleas were not often answered.

Dropping off the bed and onto her knees, Molly Weasley gave a faint wail. She looked at the arms, now empty, which had nutured 7 beautiful children. Each time she had held them, she had told herself it would be alright. They would be safe.

Yet they were not.

Urgently, she pulled at her hair. Her sobbing grew more intense, more overwhelming, the power of her grief strong in her chest. And she continued to sob.

"Please- please- please-" She found herself muttering. "Please, lord, deliver them from evil. If this is my fault... If there is some kind of limit on the blessings life can give, if you have to earn the good things by living through the bad, then please Lord, do not punish my children for my mistakes. Do not take them from this earth so young. Please help them. _Please. _Do for them what I cannot. Save them. My babies-"

"Mum?" Asked a small voice from the door. Molly spun around to see Ginny stood in the doorway. Straightening up, and trying in vain to set her hair to rights, she gave a weak and unconvincing smile.

"Ginny dear, I was just-"

"I know." Ginny whispered. Apparently, she had been so shocked by the sight of her mother so stripped of all pretence of strength, she had forgotten even her vow of silence and her grief. "I get it, mum."

Molly stared uncomprehendingly at her daughter who, in that moment, seemed to have aged a thousand years.

"You- you do?" She asked.

Ginny nodded miserably, fiddling with the beaded bed spread. "I thought it was a game, but it's not. The deaths, in the news, they're not fake. It's really happening. All of it. It's real. And we've come so close to losing them so many times-" She nodded to the jumpers, running a hand along the green one as if she could magically make him appear next to her. "And there are so many more losses to come. And there are days I think, what the _hell _is all this for? But there are other days, better days, where I think... I think we're right. Doing all this. We might have suffered losses, and we might be headed for the potential of more loss. But if we don't stand up to him, who will? I may not like it. In fact, I may hate it. But the thing is- I wouldn't be human if I didn't. And yeah, it's not a game anymore. Yeah, the deaths and the potential for more is real. But- that just gives us more reason to fight."

Molly stared at her daughter, speechless. The only coherent thought she could form was that maybe she was wrong... Ginny _was _meant to be part of the resistance, was meant to be part of the fight. For the woman facing her, saying these things... She had maturity and gravity beyond her years, had seen things no sixteen year old should have seen and endured things that no sixteen year old should have to endure... But most of all, she understood them, and she made herself stronger on the rebound. It left Molly wondering where the little baby she had held in her arms for such a brief period of time had disappeared, and who this young woman was, the one who had sprung up in her place...

Much as Molly might hate it... her little girl was all grown up.

"I-"

"And I don't think you should be ashamed for doing this, mum." Ginny cut across her, waving a hand over the array of coloured jumpers. "I think you should be proud."

"It's weak, Ginny. I know it is." Molly felt like a child making the admission, guilty seeking comfort from her daughter, when it should be the other way around.

"It's a _weakness_, mum. Not weak. Big difference. Besides, it's our weaknesses, and not our strengths, which make us human, and help to shape who we are. That's what Dumbledore used to say, anyway." Ginny shrugged.

A sudden bang in the yard had them both flying to the window. Molly sank back against the cushions, clutching her heart.

"It's just Fred and George pranking Ada and Angelina again." Ginny sighed. She put a hand on her mother's shoulder. "It's okay, you know, mum. It's okay not to be ok. None of us are. It'll work out in the end, I promise."

Molly nodded and gave her a weak smile. "I know, dear. I'm counting on it."

Ginny smiled, and then gestured the yard. "Good. Are you coming to watch the show?"

Molly smiled. "You go ahead. I'll be right down. I just want to put away-" She passed a gentle hand over Percy's jumper.

"Alright." Ginny got up and crossed the room, before pausing at the door then turning on her heel, running across the room again and planting a kiss atop of the very surprised Molly Weasley's head.

"I love you too, dear." Molly replied.

Once the door had firmly shut behind her, Molly carefully folded each jumper and put it back in it's box. At each one, she grazed her fingertips across the lid, smiling sadly... Tears weren't needed here, as she allowed all of the good, and none of the bad, to overpower her.

Easing herself up, she sighed heavily, splashed some water on her face to hide her tears and crossed the room. At the door, however, she paused and took in the sight of the boxes of jumpers stacked neatly in plain sight.

"My babies." She whispered, before shutting the door with a snap.


	6. The Sixth Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Phew... Last chapter. Then I can do another 10 minutes of revision and go to bed... Maybe have a hot chocolate in between. Sound like a plan? I think so.**

**Don't hate me for this chapter... I kind of got the idea in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep yesterday and ran with it... But I'm not sure what I think of the end result. So, reviews are really appreciated. Even more so than usual. Good or bad, virtual cookies for everyone ;)**

**I don't own Harry Potter. Here's hoping you all had a wonderful 6th day of Christmas, and that your seventh will be even better! **

_On__ the sixth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: Six geese a laying, 5 golden rings, 4 calling birds, 3 French hens, 2 turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree._

Fred and Ada were out shopping for Molly's Christmas present after work, but somehow Diagon Alley didn't feel very festive.

"Ugh. Don't you think the death eaters would at least try to make it festive, you know, for the pureblooded maniacs who-"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, out of nothing, Ada felt a wand press into her throat."Select your next words very carefully, Miss Lestrange. They may be your last."

"Hey!" Fred yelled, pointing his own wand at the death eater. "No one talks to her like that, you git!"

"No one talks to who like what, now?" Asked a cold, sneering voice, and Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the shadows. Ada threw him a look of pure loathing, and stamped on the death eater who was holding her's foot, then twisting free.

"Ah. I knew those Judo lessons were a mistake." Lucius muttered, his tone sending thrills up Ada's spine.

"I'll show you what else is a mistake, you stupid great-" Fred started. Ada put a hand on his arm.

"We're Christmas shopping here, _Uncle_. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, I suggest you allow us to proceed on our way, and we will detain you no longer."

"_Detain _them? Ada, they just-"

Ada quelled him with a look. Unfortunately, the damaged was already done...

"Just what, Mr Weasley?"

Fred looked like he was having too much difficulty containing his rage to speak. Lucius Malfoy seemed satisfied with that...

"Well, much as it would please me to just let you go, Adeline, I am afraid that I cannot. We didn't just pick you at random, you see. Bellatrix wishes to speak to you, and as she is away on important- ah, _business,_ at the moment, the Dark Lord sent us to capture you."

Ada felt as if the world were spiralling out of her grasp, but she forced herself to remain calm. "I see. Well, as much as I would _love _to see my dear _mother, _I'm afraid I'm on a serious shopping trip here. So, if you will excuse me-"

"NOW!" Yelled the death eater behind them.

Unfortunately for them, Ada had every carefully honed, polished to perfection auror reflex gained during long hours training at her disposal. After a brief duel (in which Fred helped by setting off a serious of pranks at their feet, and force feeding Lucius's assistant puking pastille), she grabbed Fred's arm and pulled him out of the now deserted alleyway.

"What the-?"

"Walk. Just walk." Ada hissed. Fred went one better than that. The pair of them broke into a sprint the moment they hit the high street.

* * *

"So they're looking for you?"

"Not so much looking for me." Ada sighed, closing the curtains tight with her wand, throwing herself down in a chair, before leaping back to her feet and crossing to the window the check the empty street again. "They know where I am, don't they?"

"Oh Merlin. I thought they were going to-"

Ada gasped, looking stricken. "They never even disarmed us."

"I trust you're not complaining?"

"But... I mean, sure, he threw several dozen rather nasty curses, but- they let us go so easily! Hardly even put up a fight! And there were only two of them- surely-"

"Look!" Fred had sprang to his feet, an anguished expression on his face. "I don't know about you, but I really don't care about the when, where's and how's of it all. Maybe they were having an off day of something. Maybe old Malfoy has the flu. Maybe the death eater force is having a christmas party, and they're the only two who could be spared to come after us. I hear Vold-" He stopped himself. "Voldy Pant's christmas cookies are to die for. I don't care, Ada! The one thing I know is that they came after us, that they tried to take you away, and they damn near did!"

His breathing was shallow, his face tortured as he stared at her. "I can't lose you."

"You won't." She whispered, crossing the room and pulling him into a hug.

"Do you think we should go into hiding?"

Ada hesitated a moment, before replying. "Not- not yet, okay? We'll have a nice family Christmas, and then- then we can talk about it. But- not yet."

"Is this about your mission for the order?" Fred asked impatiently. "For the love of all things holy, Ada, is that really worth risking your life for?"

Ada just looked across at him as she changed into her pyjamas. Just when Fred had given up on her giving him an answer at all, she locked eyes with him and whispered "Not yet."

Suddenly, and so brightly it unnerved him, Ada changed the subject. "Anyway, I haven't been pranked once today. I'm dead impressed with your selfl restraint. Honestly, it's the best Christmas present I could ask for, that you learn how to grow up a little bit."

Fred bit his lip as she peeled back the covers then climbed into bed. A second. Two... Then-

"MERLIN'S PANTS!"

For she had sat on one rather disgruntled goose... Or perhaps six geese, who were all hissing rather angrily.

"Fred Weasley." She whispered, slowly and deliberately. "Please get rid of these geese before they kill me. Because I swear, once they are through murdering me, I will turn my wand on you and kill you. Very slowly, and very painfully."

Laughing, Fred vanished the geese and hopped up into bed. It took a while for Ada's breathing to return back to normal after her fright. Once it had, she turned to look at him, pulling a goose feather from her hair and biting her lip.

"You know, when they say goosedown covers, I don't think that's exactly what they meant." She whispered.

Fred laughed. "I will grow up someday, Ada, I promise."

"Oh yeah, and pigs will fly." Ada laughed, rolling over to switch off the light. "Night, Fred."

"Night, Ada." Fred whispered sleepily.

After about 5 minutes, just when Ada had decided her boyfriend was asleep, a sleep voice spoke up.

"Oh, and Ada?"

"Hmm?" She muttered drowsily.

"There are 12 goose eggs in the bathroom. Just thought you might want to know."


	7. The Seventh Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Hello there, lovely to see you all! I've broken up from school! Yesterday, and I am so excited about it. Iceskating today, and then a friend's Christmas party tonight... AHH! So exciting... I need to calm down a bit. **

**This chapter might be a bit weird... I had a fixed idea of the kind of prank I wanted, but when I wrote it, it was a bit wacky... Well, you can see for yourselves. I love you all, thank you very much for taking the time to read it ;)**

**Bubblecloudz: You have made me the happiest person alive! I'm on cloud 9 right now... Thank you so much. I write beautifully! Somebody thinks I write beautifully... So happy! That is such a pretty compliment. Thank you so, so, so (x100) much. Glad you're enjoying it!**

**So, sorry I didn't post this last night. I did write it (promise!) but my internet went down. My dad's getting someone in to take a look at it, it's quite tempremental. I'm going out in an hour, so the eighth day of Christmas may be a bit late, too. Oh, dear... Not very good at this, am I? Well, here's wishing you a very merry eighth day of Christmas... Have fun! **

**I don't own Harry Potter... **

_On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree. _

Fred stood in the doorway to Ada's study, unseen by her, watching her working... As an auror, she had been made pretty much redundant when Voldemort took over, but was still required to go into work everyday. What she did, however, she wouldn't share, even with him...

Her order mission, too, was of the upmost secrecy... She had never said as much, but Fred suspected it was something Dumbledore had passed to her. As to what it could be, however, he had no idea.

As he watched her, a curl from her ponytail fell across her neck. Brushing it away impatiently, she bit her lip and muttered something that he couldn't hear. The sunlight bounced off her hair, and her eyes, even solemn and worried, seemed to sparkle with life.

When they had been dueling her mother last year, Fred had secretly thought she had never looked more beautiful... With he hair tumbling about her shoulders, a gash on her face and her eyes lit with fury.

But now, he disagreed. Everyday Ada, the Ada who laughed at his jokes and playfully punched him when he got annoying, who offered him a constant stream of light laughter and smiles, just to prove to him that he wasn't alone... She was the most beautiful version of his girlfriend, of any girl, that there ever was.

He couldn't live without her. Yet now he was just supposed to accept that she was putting her life on the line, that there were death eaters actively looking for her... And that there was nothing he could do about it?

Merlin, what a mess.

* * *

Angelina laid with her head in George's lap, staring up at the ceiling of their East London apartment.

"Ange?"

"Hmm?"

"If Fred and Ada really do go into hiding... What would we do?"

Angelina sighed heavily. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have a plan anymore, for anything."

"But you _always _have a plan!" George mock gasped. "For everything! If I so much as go to get a loaf of bread from the shops, there has to be a plan, and a backup plan for the plan, and a backup plan for the backup plan, and a backup plan for the backup plan for the backup plan. And quite possibly a thousand more backup plans."

"I don't know, George." Angelina sighed again, sounding weighed down and defeated. "I just- don't. I don't have a backup plan for my backup plan. Hell, I don't even have a plan, let alone a backup plan. I guess- I'm just taking each day as it comes. I can't think about tomorrow, when I'm too busy worrying about whether or not I'm going to survive today."

George was startled to see tears in her eyes. "Ange-"

She sat up quite suddenly, springing to her feet, eyes sparkling with tears. "How can we live like this George? How can _anyone _live like this?"

"I- I don't know, Ange."

"I haven't even bought my mother a Christmas present, because I'm too afraid to so much as step outside of my own front door. I can't go to work without being terrified of what I might find when I come home. I can't go to bed without triple checking my wand is on my bedside table. I can't sleep until I've flooed Alicia, just because I haven't seen her in a few weeks and I want to make sure she's still alive! And Ada and I have been sending owls every hour or so, just to check nothings changed. Merlin, George, I can't-"

Suddenly, George wrapped her in a tight, warm embrace, cutting off her words. "I know, Ange. Honest to God I do."

He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. "I'm sorry." She whispered, suddenly ashamed. Usually, she wasn't prone to outbursts... Or tears.

"I know. We'll go get your mum a Christmas present."

"Now?" Angelina asked.

"Yeah, now. Get your coat on. We're going to the muggle market."

"The _muggle _market?"

Angelina was a half blood. She thought she understood muggles. After all, two of her four of Grandparents were muggles, and they'd done a pretty good job of telling her about the muggle world. But this... This was beyond _weird. _

"I- What?" She whispered, looking across to George for help, but he seemed just as bewildered as her. "Those are eski lators, right? Like the ones on the underground. But what are those twinkling lights? And, wow! Look at that muggle Chistmas tree... Where's the flying santa? Please tell me they have flying santas on muggle Christmas trees!"

"Umm, hate to break it to you, Ange, but no. I don't think they do."

"Gah, that's so depressing!" Slowly, she spun in a circle, taking in the sight of the entire shopping centre. "Wow- This is so cool!"

"Come on, Ange." George laughed, throwing her an amused smirk. "Let's get your mum a Christmas present."

After a comfortable hour shopping, in which both of them forgot completely about the war, they came across a ballet in the centre of the square.

"Do you mind if we sit down a minute?" Angelina asked. "My shoes are giving me blisters."

"Sure. Do you want to change? I've got your boots in one of these bags..."

Angelina rummaged through the bags, before withdrawing a shoe, smiling. "Thanks."

There was a second, after she pulled on the boots, in which nothing happened... George held his breath, praying to god of pranks that it would come off, when Angelina gave a sudden yelp.

"What the- George! Merlin, I'm going to kill you. I'm actually going to murder-"

George was too busy laughing to pay any attention to her.

For, in the centre of the tutu clad ballet dancers, dressed in her snow boots, jeans and dark green parka coat, was Angelina, dancing as if it was all that she had been born to do. And, on her shoes, shone 7 gold coloured swans.

The crowd gathered and, astonished, the ballet dancers parted. Despite the now severely disgruntled, embarrassed expression on her face, Angelina seemed unable to stop dancing.

Chortling to himself, George took out a camera and snapped pictures as she performed a particularly graceful pirouette. The bemused musician in the corner struggled to keep a pace with her.

Finally, the shoes released their hold, and Angelina came to a stop. She looked torn between intense embarrassment and wanting to rip George limb from limb.

The stunned crowd burst into applause, as tears of laughter streamed down George's face, and Angelina blushed furiously.

"I'm going to kill you." Angelina was still saying, half an hour later. They had had to get rid of what George had been quick to dub 'Angelina's adoring crowd', the ballet company (who had wanted to sign her up immediately) and the musician, all of whom were yelling for an encore. George still couldn't stop laughing.

"Would it help-" Said George, picking up a bunch of roses from one surprised stall tenders arms and shoving a twenty pound note (he still had trouble with muggle monetary value) into his arms. He presented the bouquet to Angelina with a mock bow, grinning from ear to ear. "If I said that the dance I just witnessed was the most amazing debut dance I have ever seen?"

Finally, Angelina laughed, taking the bouquet from him and promptly hitting him over the head with it. "No, you prat. It wouldn't. Any last words?"

George gulped. "Err- you're beautiful? No? In which case- RUN!"


	8. The Eighth Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Hello! I have a really bad cold, but on the bright side, that means more time in bed, which means more time writing fanfiction! I think I've developed a bit of a pattern in these chapters, in that at the start everyone seems all depressed and upset about the war and stuff, and then towards the end of the chapter Fred and George come in with a prank and make everyone angry and murderous and just save the day in general... Yeah. It's a good pattern, though, so I think I'll probably stick to it. Or, at least, I won't consciously try to change it unless you all tell me too. **

**Isabel: Aww, bless you. I hope you get a sudden stroke of inspiration and finish all your homework in good time so you can enjoy your Christmas. Stupid teachers... And THANK YOU! Aww... I feel fluffy and warm on the inside. I'm glad you liked it. And oh my, I was jumping up and down when I read your review because I KNOW THIS SONG! I went through a phase of obsession when I was trying to get over Fred's death in Deathly Hallows... it only helped a little bit. I'm still traumatized. So, if I die young by The Band Perry. My turn *Listens to IPod a second- nope, done that one* _Time is going by so much faster than I and I'm starting to regret not spending more of it with you. _The last one was _Please Don't Say You Love Me_ by Gabrielle Alpin... I thought if I included the line _Please don't say you love me, _it might be a tad obvious... So, sorry about that one ;) **

**Bubblecloudz: Thank you! I'm so happy you enjoyed it... I love Angelina. It upsets me that so many people hate her because she married George after Fred's death... I think she earnt a happy ending. And I'm sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter! The holidays are busier than I thought they'd be... **

**So, I don't own Harry Potter, or Fred, George, Angelina or A- well, actually, I do own Ada, but you get the jist... Hoping you all had a wonderful, anti-gravity-hot-chocolate free 8th day of Christmas. **

_On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtledoves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree. _

"Snow ball fight?" George asked, coming up behind Angelina and Ada, who were making Christmas pudding for Molly.

"I've got a better idea." Angelina grinned. "How about a Quiddich match?"

Ada tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Finally, she gave up and sighed, throwing herself down onto the sofa, head in her hands.

"Ada-" Angelina looked up at George. Her friend had always been a source of constant surprise... It seemed to be Ada's specialty. As soon as you thought you'd figured her out, she'd do something else and completely astonish you.

But neither Angelina nor George had ever seen Ada broken.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't be- Ada, what's-"

"You guys go play. I'll come out and watch in a bit."

"I can floo Fred, if-" George began.

"No, don't." George and Angelina exchanged astounded looks. "I don't want him to have to- I don't want to worry him, or see me like this. I just- I guess it just kind of hit me, you know?"

"What?" Angelina whispered.

"This might be the last Christmas we all spend together." Ada gulped back tears. "And yet... And yet not all of us are here."

"Oh, Ada!" Angelina was now sobbing ever so slightly too as she embraced her friend... "Please. Don't talk like that, I-"

"Ange." Ada whispered, pulling away and cupping her friend's face in her hand, searching her face for something that appeared to remain elusive... "I love you. Okay?"

Angelina was taken aback by the ferocity of her tone and the intensity of her gaze. Biting her lip, she nodded, and planted a kiss on her friend's forehead. "We can sit with you a while, if you-"

"No. Go out and enjoy yourselves. Please. I'll finish the Christmas pudding and watch from the window, where it's warm. You can have a proper one on one match, without my inexpert Quiddich skills getting in the way."

"You sure?" Angelina asked, biting her lip again as she looked across at George.

"One hundred percent certain." Ada managed a small smile as she squeezed her friend's hand. "Now go!"

Once she had done with her baking, Ada leaned against the windowsill, staring vacantly out of the window at George and Angelina as they played Quiddich. Even from this distance, she could hear Angelina shrieking as George held the quaffle out of her reach...

Merlin, she loved those two.

"Fools." She muttered, smiling to herself through tears.

Suddenly, she felt warm arms wrap around her shoulders. "You talking about me there, Miss Lestrange?"

"Fred!" She cried, spinning around and flinging her arms around his neck. "You're home!"

"Yeah. Hold off the paparazzi a sec, Ada. Brought you a present."

"Oh, Merlin. Not another of your twelve days of pranking, I hope." She laughed, kissing him on the cheek as she flicked the switch to the kettle.

"Nope. Merry Christmas."

"We've got another 4 days to go yet, you prat. What are you going to give me if you hand me all my presents now?"

"This isn't a Christmas present, Ada. It's- Well, open it up and you'll see."

Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously for a second, Ada picked up her wand off the sideboard and pointed it at the parcel, before unwrapping it.

"Merlin, Fred!" She gasped, holding the necklace up to the light.

"It's a tracking device, Ada, like muggles use in the spy movies dad likes talking about. If ever you're in trouble, it'll send a signal to me, and the order will know where to find you."

"Fred-" she started, her eyes now filled with so many tears she couldn't see.

"I know you're worried, Ada." Fred whispered, his hands on the back of her neck. "Much, much more than you're letting on. And I get that, okay? But sometimes, well, all the time really... I worry about you."

"Fred-"

"Let me worry about you, Ada." He whispered.

Wordlessly, Ada nodded, and allowed him to fasten the necklace around her neck. Crossing her arms, as if that could hold back the torrent of emotion straining to get out, she turned her head away from him...

Clearing his throat, and turning to the window (perhaps to hide the tears sparkling in his eyes), Fred fastened his gaze on Fred and Angelina as they flew.

"What are they-"

"Quiddich." Ada whispered hoarsely, fiddling with the charm.

"Doesn't look like any game of Quiddich I've ever seen." Fred laughed as Angelina launched herself at Fred. She threw herself too far, however, and for a moment, kissed George middair, before they both tumbled to the ground and into the snow.

Finally, Ada laughed, and jumped up onto the countertop beside him. "Yeah well, Quiddich and flirting, it's all the same with them."

Fred stared at her, perched on the countertop, before kissing her soundly.

After a moment, Ada pulled away. "Err- we're in your mums house, Fred."

"Someone tell that to George and Angelina."

"Technically, they're in the garden." She teased. Fred laughed, and kissed her on the cheek.

"I wish I could fly like Angelina." Ada sighed, laughing lightly as her friend pulled off a spectacular dive.

Fred laughed, inspiration striking quite suddenly. "Yeah, well, Quiddich is not one of your many talents, I'm afraid. Do you want a hot chocolate?"

She looked at him. "You're acting very gentlemanly today." She pressed a hand to his forehead in mock worry. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, haha." Fred laughed, grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge and pouring it into a saucepan.

A minute later, Ada had a mug of hot chocolate in her hand. Taking a delicate sip, it took all the self restraint she had not to spit it out. "I think the milk's off."

"Oh." Fred turned to the fridge to keep from laughing. "Let me check-"

A sudden tingling sensation gripped Ada, and a small gasp escaped her. And, quite suddenly, she was floating.

"Fred Gideon Weasley, I am going to kill you." She said as her head hit the ceiling and her feet flailed madly, trying to reach the ground. "I am actually going to slit your throat myself."

"Cross your legs." Fred advised, though he could hardly speak for laughing.

Scowling, Ada followed his advise.

"Now put your hands on your knees." He told her. "There. You look like Buddha!"

"Oh, haha." Ada snapped. "As soon as I get down from here, I swear to every wizard that ever did live, I will slap that stupid grin off your face."

Still laughing hysterically, Fred grabbed his dad's muggle camera from the side and took a picture.

"Oh, that's good! I'm going to call this shot _Adeline Selene Lestrange: The Buddha that achieved enlightenment and decided she didn't like it._"

"Oh, you're hilarious." She sighed, putting her head in her hands. "I hate heights."

"But you told me you wanted to fly like Angelina!" Fred cried. Just then, the door banged open and a wet, cold and thrilled looking George and Angelina entered. Both of them stopped dead on the welcome mat.

"Um- Ada, honey, I hate to break it to you, but you're on the ceiling." Angelina laughed.

"Oh, you're all so funny. You're going to kill me with your amazing wit." Ada sighed. "Get me down. Please?"

Angelina climbed onto a chair and grabbed her friend's ankle, laughing as she pulled her down.

"This may be a really stupid question." She said conversationally. "But may I ask why?"

"It's a long story." Ada sighed. "Apparently the twins have been developing some anti gravity hot chocolate powder? It tastes disgusting, just for the record. I'll finish off telling you as soon as I've killed Fred."

"As fun as killing me sounds, my darling, can it wait just ten seconds?" Fred asked, smiling in a sickly sweet way. With her feet finally firmly on the ground, Ada crossed her arms across her chest and arched an eyebrow.

"You have 9." She informed him.

"On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtledoves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree." He sang. Then he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Get it, Ada? Because hot chocolate, that's made from milk, and the song says maids a milking, and-"

George touched his twins shoulder.

"Umm, mate?"

"Yeah?" Fred gulped, looking at the murderous expression on his girlfriend's face.

"I have some advice for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. RUN!"


	9. The Ninth Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Bit of a random chapter, but then again, in this story... What chapter isn't? **

**Conversation between me and my mummy today:  
**

**Mum: *Talking about what we need to do in the holidays* You've wasted the entire day on fictional characters.**

**Me: What do you mean, wasted? Fictional?!**

**Mum: *Shouts dad* Honey! I think I've broken Hannah! **

**Dad: Meh. **

**I don't own Harry Potter. **

_On the Ninth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: 9 Ladies Dancing, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree. _

"Ada?" Fred groaned, propping himself upright to look at her. She grinned, leaning over the coffee table and bringing her face inches from his.

"Yes Freddie dear?"

"Could you get me another icepack?"

Laughing, Ada straightened up and walked over to the fridge, tossing him a bag of frozen peas. "Fresh out, darling. Here, have some frozen peas to make up for it."

Fred rolled his eyes. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Am not." She retorted, sticking out her tongue. "I enjoying this exactly the right amount, under the circumstances. As in, I'm enjoying this a lot. I hope you've learnt your lesson."

"Mmm-hmm." He moaned, lying back to stare at the ceiling.

"Don't make me give you a detention, now." She fixed him with a severe gaze.

"What would you make me do?" George smirked, lifting his arms and locking them around her neck, forcing her onto her knees by the arm of the sofa and bringing her face inches from his.

"Lines." She retorted, smiling as she kissed him on the nose. "I'd make you write: _I must not levitate my girlfriend onto the ceiling using anti gravity hot chocolate and then trick her into looking like Buddha." _

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Fred winced. "But those bruises you gave me really set me in my place, don't worry. I won't be levitating anyone any time soon."

"Glad to hear it." She smirked, before leaning down for a kiss.

* * *

"George?"

"Yeah?" George replied, tilting his head so that he could look up at his girlfriend, who was tossing a quaffle up and down.

"What's todays prank? Just so I'm forewarned... Only I know the line is _Ladies Dancing _and I just wanted you to know that if you make me dance in any more public places, I'll-"

"Yeah. Transfigure me into a goat, murder me painfully, knock me into next year...which, now I think on it, isn't that far away. Never fear, Angelina darling. I learnt my lesson with regards to the ballet boots just after you forced me to eat those rose, thorns and all. My throats still scratched."

Angelina smirked in a self satisfied sort of way. "Yeah, well, just so your forewarned, any pranks at my mothers this evening will involve very painful-"

"What do you mean _at your mothers this evening? _We're not going to your mothers this evening, are we? We can't-"

"Holy Merlin, George!" Angelina laughed at his panicked expression. "You haven't seriously forgotten already?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Today! It's the annual Johnson Christmas get together. My mother's been going on about it since January! And whilst we're on that topic-" She leaned forward, looking him in the eye. "This is the first time a lot my family will meet you. I've told them a lot about you, but, well- I guess we'll just have to wait and see, but there is the potential for lots of things to go horribly, horribly wrong. So best behaviour. Smiles. And I swear to God, George Fabian Weasley, if a single thing explodes, you will be sorry!"

"Holy Morgana! The big meeting, the one that your father said: 'Don't screw up, or you won't be going near my daughter with a million metre barge pole.' That one? That's today?" George cried.

Angelina smirked. "Yep, Georgie dear. That _is _today. You're first official meeting with my family. I'm not entirely sure which one of us should be more nervous..."

"I made your mother a hundred vats of tea." George sighed. "How much more official can it get?"

Angelina merely smiled in a way that made George think that, just maybe, he wasn't going to enjoy himself very much tonight...

* * *

"Ange!" Came a slightly whiney voice from the next room.

Sighing, Angelina affixed the second earring in her ear lobe, gave her reflexion a final once over, and then went into the next room.

"Ange, I am not-" George broke off mid sentence, staring open mouthed at his girlfriend. "Wow- you look- Wow."

"Too much?" Angelina asked anxiously, smoothing over the red dress and patting down her hair.

"No! No, you look- You look beautiful." George informed her. Angelina beamed.

"Thanks. You're looking particularly handsome yourself." She told him, tweaking his tie and twining a strand of red hair around her finger. He grimaced uncomfortably.

"Ange- there is no way I am wearing this. Can I not wear my dragonskin jacket, or-"

"It's the suit or nothing." She replied, shooting him a warning glance.

"Excellent. That's settled, then. I'll go starkers."

Angelina laughed. "Much as I would love that, Georgie dear, I doubt my mother would appreciate your private parts being displayed in front of the entire extended family, especially since my Grandmother is incredibly straight laced about that sort of thing. A shame, I know, but there we have it. Come on, or else we'll be late."

* * *

Five minutes in, George had decided that he'd rather confront Voldy Pants with nothing but a chicken joke wand to defend himself with than remain at this party for another minute.

Every single female member of Angelina's extended family seemed to be made around the same breed as his great aunty Muriel- as in boring, stuffy and fussy. At least, if he had turned up in nothing but his birthday suit, it would have added some entertainment to this frightfully dull gathering... Granted, there were some rather good looking cousins, but as he was here with Angelina, he didn't even have the liberty to admire them openly.

"If it were anyone but you, Ange." He muttered under his breath.

"So, which side of the family are you from, dear?" Asked another of the aunts.

"With looks like that, Miranda, how could there be any question?" Laughed another, pinching his cheek.

"Actually." George said, once she had finally let him go. "I'm Angelina's boyfriend."

"Ooh! Angelina! Where is that girl? She's done herself well, here. I might just steal you."

George wanted to say 'Err... No, thank you.' But the thought disgusted him too much...

"George!" Cried a voice, quite suddenly, at his left ear.

George turned around to see Angelina, and could've wept with relief. She grinned, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and took his hand.

"Hey, Aunt Miranda, Aunt Carolina." Angelina smiled, kissing each of the wrinkled women on the cheek. "George, there's someone I want you to meet. Excuse us a minute?"

"Thank you. I was dying there."

Angelina laughed, and the sound washed over George like music.

"I know." She whispered back. "I spent an entire three weeks of my summer holidays with them when I was twelve, nearly lost my mind. I wrote to you, remember?"

George laughed. "_That's _tweedledum and tweedledee?"

"Ssh!" Angelina said, though she was laughing. "Yeah. That's them."

"Where are we going?" George asked, then added, as if a hopeful afterthought. "The food table? Home?"

Angelina laughed. "No, you idiot. I want you to meet someone special."

The someone special, as it turned out, was snoozing in a chair. Angelina grinned at George.

"Gramma. Gramma!"

"Merry Christmas!" yelled the startled woman, jumping nearly a foot out of her chair.

Angelina took her hand. "Gramma, I'd like you to meet someone."

"Charlotte? That you?"

"No, Gramma. It's me, Angelina. I'm right here, see." She guided her Grandma's hand to her cheek. The woman's hand looked as if it had seen a thousand year, wrinkled with a weathered look to it, like a prune. Smiling, she caressed Angelina's cheek, and George realised she was blind.

"That I do, sweetheart. Ah, it's good to hear your voice, Angel." She winced as she pushed herself up. "Although I can't see a thing, as you should well know, you silly girl!" she chuckled.

"That's true." Angelina smiled, softly and sadly, as she stared into the lined face. Taken aback, George realised he had scarcely ever seen such a tender expression on her face.

"Ah, Angel. Now who's this you've brought to see a tired old woman? It's not Alicia is it? Or that Ada? They were lovely girls if ever there were."

"No, Gramma. This is my boyfriend, George." She guided her grandmother's hand into George's, who kissed it. Angelina grinned at him, and mouthed 'thanks.'

Gramma chuckled. "Now there's a boy who knows, Angel." She frowned, as if trying to recall something important. "But I'm afraid I don't- what exactly is it you do at the ministry, George?"

"The ministry?" George asked, confused, looking over at Angelina. She looked like she was biting back tears or laughter, and couldn't quite decide which.

"No, Gramma, that's Carlotta's boyfriend, Tim. He's in the Department of law, remember? They're engaged now, you spoke to him earlier. George runs a joke shop."

"Oh, that's right. Don't mind a silly old woman, George, dear. I'm frightfully forgetful, these days. But that Tim, he was a bore if ever there was one. He'll be right at home with Carlotta. A proper job, that's what you've got there. Angel, she was always my favourite. You still there sweetheart?"

"Right here, Gramma." Angelina whispered, placing her hand on her Grandmother's arm.

"There's a good girl. You still play Quiddich?"

"Yeah. You can come to a match someday."

"I shall look forward to it, sweetheart. Now, what kind of things do you get up to at this joke shop, George? Angelina's told us all kinds of stories, and it doesn't sound boring, like working in the department of law. You got any pranks planned for tonight?"

"Ah, now that would be telling." George laughed, his gaze flickering up to Angelina.

Gramma gave a cackle. "Ah, sweet Merlin, I hope so. Liven up this party a little bit. Do you know, I once put itching powder in your grandpa's sock draw? Took him weeks to get it out, and even longer to work out it was me! And Carolina, don't get me started on her, she was such a prissy child, and I remember quite clearly-"

"Merlin." Angelina laughed. "I knew introducing you two was a mistake. I'm going to check something with mum, alright, Gramma? George'll be right here."

Patting her hand, Gramma let go. She waited a few beats, before leaning forward, though her eyes lingered somewhere just above George's right ear. "Is she gone?"

"Yeah. She's talking to Carlotta, I think."

"God bless her soul." Laughed Gramma. "Now, George. You seem like a nice boy. When are you going to marry my granddaughter?"

George laughed, looking at the woman.

"I'm serious." She warned. "I want to see Great Grandchildren before I depart this earth, and I don't want to see Carlotta's first neither."

George grinned. "Someday. Someday soon."

"Good. That's good." Gramma sat back in the chair, surveying the scene her eyes could no longer see, but enjoying it all the same as her feet tapped out the rhythm of the speaker which had just turned on.

* * *

The prank that night involved a great deal of shrieking and an upturned bowl of macaroni cheese, but Angelina wasn't as angry as usual. When it was over, she climbed into bed beside George and turned off the light.

A few beats of silence. Then she rolled over and draped her arms around George's shoulders, squeezing gently.

"George?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." She whispered, and George felt his heart constrict at the heavy emotion in her words.

"For what?"

"For being there, today. I don't know what you said to my Gramma, but whatever it was- you made her really, really happy. And wiped the smile off Carlotta's face."

"You're welcome." George laughed, yawning widely.

"And- I guess, because you're always there when I need you. And I needed you tonight. There were so many people there who- who weren't there. I didn't realise how important it was to me until I got there. Thank you for coming."

"Ange?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for inviting me."


	10. The Tenth Day of Christmas

**Author's note: Last chapter of the day. You know, for someone who's spent the entire day writing, I haven't actually written that much... I blame it on this godforsaken cold :'( **

**I know the Holyhead Harpies are Ginny's Quidditch team, but I was reading through league level Quidditch teams on google, and couldn't picture Angelina with any other team. I think her and Ginny on the same team after the war would have entertaining consequences, too... Not as entertaining as having them on opposite teams, but still... And also, rubbish prank, I know. I had this huge one planned... But then I got a shower, and took a couple of paracetemol, and I forgot it. Sorry :'(**

**I don't own Harry Potter. Though I think you've probably figured that out by now... **

On_ the tenth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 10 Lords a Leaping, 9 Ladies Dancing, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree. _

"Ada!" Cried a voice, and the front door banged open. Ada drew her wand tiredly, rushing into the hall through the kitchen.

"Oh, that's kind of scary." Angelina said apprehensively, eyeing up Ada's wand. "Alright, alright, no need to get your knickers in a twist! My name is Angelina Lena Johnson, daughter of Marianna and John Johnson, (whose parents were exceptionally cruel), girlfriend of George Weasley, who is your boyfriend's twin, your best friend since First Year, chess player extraordinaire, amazing Quiddich player-"

"And has a very big head." Ada finished off. "Sorry, I'm kind of edgy lately. I had to check. Would you like a hot chocolate or something?" Then she winced. "Holy Merlin, why must I torture myself this way. Come on."

In her seat at the kitchen table, Angelina seemed unable to sit still, her hands shaking slightly as she cradled the steaming mug against her chest.

Laughing, Ada seated herself opposite her friend. "Come on then. Out with it."

"Out with what?" Angelina's bemused expression was the most hopeless one Ada had ever seen.

"You, my darling, are the worst actress I have ever seen. Now, what has your wand in a twist?"

"Honestly, I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Oh, please." Ada grinned, torn between exasperation and amusement. "You can't sit still in your chair. You're smiling like a lunatic. And you haven't even touched your hot chocolate yet. What's up?"

Angelina beamed a couple more seconds, then burst out, as if she could no longer keep it to herself any longer- "I'm going to play for the Holyhead Harpies!"

"What?" Ada cried, dropping the cake she was transferring to the oven and sending batter splattering across the floor. "Ange, that's amazing!"

"Yeah." Angelina smiled happily, cradling her hot chocolate and beaming. "Gwenog Jones approached me, in the joke shop, if you'll believe it. She said that Ginny had talked about me last time they'd met- don't know what that's about, but there you go, and that her chaser had fallen in and since there was a spot open and no one auditioning, would I like to come and try out. So I did, and she said I fit in really well with the team and that the spots mine if I want it. It's my first game on Christmas Eve. Will you come and watch?"

"Oh my! But that's so fast and, oh Holy Merlin!" Ada brushed aside a stray tear impatiently. "This is your _dream_, Ange! I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks, Ada." Angelina grinned, then bounced up and embraced her friend. "I'm so happy for me, too!"

Ada couldn't help herself. She laughed.

"So will you come?"

"Are you kidding me? And miss out on my friend playing her first game of Quidditch, and a free Harpies match? Of course I'll come!"

"Ada! Your love of freebies touches me!" Angelina laughed. Then she turned, and caught sight of the photos on her friend's mantelpiece. "Oh. I wondered where that picture went."

"Oh. Hermione sent me a copy, last June. Do you not have a copy?"

"It's- it's all of us. All of us together. When did that happen?" Angelina had clearly not taken in a word Ada had said, striding over to examine the photo.

It was last years Quidditch team, along with Ada and Hermione... Angelina's stomach plummeted as she stared at each face.

"It's funny-" She whispered hoarsely, sounding as if she had developed a quite sudden head cold. "I don't really remember a time when we were all together. Yet... How could I have forgotten, Ada? And how is it we were all there, all smiling and laughing and untroubled one second, and the next..."

"Missing." Ada finished off. There was no emotion in her life this time- she had no more tears to give. Now, it was just a fact of life. A daily occurrence. Nothing to shed tears about... "Fighting for our lives. Or dead."

Angelina's eyes roved the photo, before she put it back on the shelf. Ada placed her hand on her own. "Keep it, Ange."

The moment they arrived home, Fred and George were greeted by a profound silence... For two people who lived and worked in a loud, busy joke shop, it was unnerving. Nervously, they exchanged a glance.

Neither of them wanted to say it, but every time they came home, that fear was there. It just so happened that, today, that fear was painfully intense...

There hadn't been a dark mark over their house. _But, _there was always the chance that...

"George!" Angelina practically flew down the stairs, Ada following. Both girls looked as if they had been crying, and dark circles ringed their eyes... Even so, Ada greeted Fred with her customary tired smile, and Angelina beamed and kissed George on the cheek.

"You'll never guess what!"

"You got turned into a giant Yorkshire pudding!" George cried out.

"No! What the heck? Where'd that come from?"

"I'm hungry." George shrugged defensively as his stomach gave a significant rumble. "And Fred and I were talking about Yorkshire puddings before we apparated over here. It was the first thing I thought of."

Angelina frowned at him a moment, before shrugging and grinning. "I got into the Holyhead Harpies! I'm playing in two day from no in my first league game!"

"No way! That's awesome, Ange! Really!"

"I don't have news that exciting." Ada grinned, descending the staircase and kissing Fred on the cheek. "But welcome home anyway."

Fred laughed, and kissed her wholeheartedly back.

Halfway through dinner, George laid down his fork and grinned.

"Oh, Holy Merlin." Ada sighed. "What this time?"

"Lords a Leaping." Angelina sighed. "What prank-?"

The table disintegrated under her fingertips, and all around her the world spun into a blur of colours. When she opened her eyes, she was wearing George's (or Possibly Fred's) clothes... She looked across at Ada, and then at her boyfriend...

"Holy-"

"Yes, yes, we know."

"Not our best prank."

"But honestly, how do you follow-"

"Anti-Gravity Hot Chocolate?"

"Sing with me, Freddie dear?"

"My pleasure, Georgie darling."

"On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 10 Lords a Leaping, 9 Ladies Dancing, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree." They sang, loudly and hugely off key.

Angelina looked across at Ada, who looked freakishly out of place in her boyfriend's clothes. Then, she turned to George.

"Those are my favourite jeans, Georgie boy. If you stretch them-!"

"Don't you have any original threats?" George asked conversationally. "Only I'm getting tired of writing my will, and I really don't have any last words, other than- Run?"

"Please. I'll give you a three second head start. And don't rip my jeans." Winking at Ada, Angelina held up three fingers and began to count down...


	11. The Eleventh Day Of Christmas

**Author's note: Hey! So, there's something seriously up with my maths... How I got to be in the higher maths class is completely beyond me. How can I be on the eleventh day of Christmas, when it's only Christmas eve eve? So I've had to make some minor changes to my plotline, but this will probably work out better anyways... I'm busy tomorrow, and I'm sure none of you will be checking your fanfiction on Christmas day, and neither will I, as I said on chapter one. So I might finish the story tonight... Emphasis on might. **

**It's so close to Christmas! Merlin, this is exciting... It doesn't even feel like Christmas. How can it be less than two days away? I'm so excited! XD**

**Isabel: Oh, your poor brother... Books make good misiles, though, don't you think? I once threw one at myself (long story!) and I hate a bruise for days... Anyways. And as to the confusion with the twins, no George _didn't _die... Don't do that to me! I'm never going to get over Fred's death, and then I see a sentence like that, and Holy Merlin... :'( So, yeah. It's really weird, but everytime I write Angelina and George, I end up writing Angelina and Fred... What even is that? I think it's because I've got so used to writing Fred/Ada stuff, and... I don't know. I proof read, but I guess I missed one or two. So sorry about that. It was _Never gonna be alone _by Nickelback... yeah. And I don't know that one! That's frustrating... Tempted to open google and type it in. But no, I'm a good girl. I won't cheat. Okay, so second to last one: _Who cares what they're wearing, on Main Street or Saville Row? It's what you wear from ear to ear, And not from head to toe. _Holy Morgana, you know it's Christmas when I can't get that out of my head... Hope you have a wonderful time with your brother! And I had 10ml last Saturday and was dead proud of myself... Drank it at four o clock, was still lying awake at midnight. I've come to the conclusion that energy drinks and me shouldn't be mixed... **

**Bubblecloudz: okay, here goes: _thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou_****_thankyou... _****You're a wonderful person! So, so glad you like it! **

******I don't own Harry Potter... **

_On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 11 Pipers piping, 10 Lords a Leaping, 9 Ladies Dancing, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree._

It took Angelina a moment to figure out why she felt so excited, and so nervous. Then she remembered what day it was, and almost squealed in excitement.

"George! George, George, George! Wake up!"

"Ugh." George mumbled into his pillow, inhaling a mouthful of feathers as he looked up. "What is it, Ange? Is the apocalypse coming?"

"No- Oh, wake up, you prat! It's the day of my first real match, remember? The Harpies Christmas eve game, and I'm playing, and Merlin this is so exciting!"

"Okay. Well, while you be excited, I'm going to get some more beauty sleep."

Angelina mock pouted. "Thought you'd be happy for me, Georgie dear."

"I am. Very happy for you. It's just that I'm going to spend the next couple of hours being happy for you whilst catching up on some sleep."

Angelina laughed, jumped out of bed and took the stairs three at a time as she ran to make pancakes.

Even the dire news on Potterwatch, bringing in tidings of death and disappearance and dark marks from all corners of the country, couldn't do much to dampen her mood. The flurry of snow which had swept once more across the country the previous evening had subsided, leaving the conditions calm and clear, if somewhat cold...

Everyone had been so worried recently. Every face you saw had a grim expression on it, every day the news seemed to get worse. Angelina felt as if she had been carrying around a great bundle of worry and hopelessness and fear in the pit of her stomach ever since the previous year.

This Quidditch match seemed much more than just a Quidditch match; much more, even, than a lifelong dream... It seemed like an opportunity, proof that good things still existed, that you could rebel in little ways.

Yes, they were at war, and yes, terrible things were happening... Friends, family, neighbours... Strangers. All taken from their midst. But good things still existed. George kissed her, and her heart skipped a beat. Ada, Fred, Alicia, Katie... All still smiled at her, hugged her and wished her a Merry Christmas, reminding her that she wasn't alone. Carlotta still drove her mad...

Quidditch matches, love, friendship, pranks, family and Christmas still went on, war or no war. Whether this was the end, or just the beginning, the world would go on regardless.

Maybe our lives were only important because they were short. Maybe you might wake up tomorrow and found everything that made life living was gone... But just because everything might be taken from you tomorrow, didn't mean you shouldn't enjoy what you had today.

Maybe if someone Angelina loved died in this war, it wouldn't mean the world came to a standstill. It wouldn't mean the end of the world. But it would be the end of the world for Angelina. And that was all that really mattered, all that made life worthwhile.

And so, kicking off from the ground, Angelina felt pretty good.

It wasn't a surprise to anyone when the Holyhead Harpies won the Christmas match that year. Angelina played amazingly well, scoring 3 of their 6 goals. But then again, who wouldn't with a barking mad Weasley twin cheering them on in the stand?

After she had been congratulated by the entire Weasley clan (which had turned out in full force... Or rather, what was left of them had.) Her mother, grandmother (who was practically glowing with pride, and still holding on to George's arm) and Carlotta, Angelina turned to George.

"Meet me after, okay?" She asked, before kissing him quickly on the cheek and running off to the changing rooms to get a hot shower, which, with a bit of luck, could remove the frostbite from her fingertips.

George sat, leaned against the railing from the stands with his hands in his pockets, whistling under his breath. "Fancy seeing you here, Miss Johnson." He called.

Angelina laughed and rolled her eyes, stomping her snow boots to try and keep the cold from her toes.

"Quick game with me, Georgie dear? For old times sake?"

"Why the hell not?" George asked. "Though after that game I'm pretty much certain I'm about to be royally beaten."

Angelina laughed, shrugging. "Maybe so."

As it turned out, however, George had a fun way of holding his own. "Alright, Ange. Quaffle for a kiss."

"Stop cheating you idiot!" She laughed, bouncing up and down on her broom as the stretched her fingertips in an attempt to reach the ball.

"Don't recall anything in the rulebook about holding the quaffle out of your girlfriends reach, and offering to give it back to her in exchange for a kiss. Come on, Ange. There's mistletoe!" He pulled a pouty face and hovered a bit higher, as airborne mistletoe coiled out of nowhere and hovered over his head...

"Give me the quaffle you prat!" Angelina laughed, reaching a bit higher as George shot out of reach.

"Too short, Ange?" He laughed.

"Holy Merlin, remind me why I agreed to go out with you in the first place." Angelina grinned, rolling her eyes.

"Because I'm tragically funny, astonishingly good looking, smart, brilliant, amazing and-"

"Exceptionally big headed?" Angelina suggested, as she tried in vain to reach the quaffle yet again...

"That too." George conceded with a grin. "But that's besides the point. Don't you _want _to kiss me Ange?"

Angelina pretended to consider for a moment, before grinning at him. "I'm gonna have to go with... yes."

Grinning triumphantly, George wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her soundly...

It was freezing, Angelina suddenly realised. Her fingertips, toes and the end of her nose were all icicles... Even her hair seemed to be cold. But George's lips were warm. He tasted of spring, of butterbear and warm fires crackling in the hearth and comforting childhood memories...

"Aha!" She declared, pulling away quite suddenly in triumph, and holding up the quaffle.

George pouted. "You don't play fair."

"Never said I did." Angelina retorted, racing towards the goal. Suddenly, and without warning, the quaffle flew out of her hands, and began to hit her repeatedly on the head.

Squealing, she covered her head with her arms, trying to bat the ball away... "George!" She cried reproachfully.

"Neither did I, Ange. Neither did I." George laughed as he flew to join her. Suddenly, he took out a pipe and began to play, out of tune and out of time, but with a distinct and strange quality... Suddenly sleepy, Angelina found her eyes drooping.

"Isn't funny." She muttered half heartedly as she yawned widely.

"On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, 11 Pipers Piping, 10 Lords a Leaping, 9 Ladies Dancing, 8 Maids a Milking, 7 Swans a Swimming, 6 Geese a Laying, 5 Golden Rings, 4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree."


End file.
